Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Chapter 42 Jump, Jive And Wail

  In the great hall of the castle above Foresthome, music and a man’s voice rang out loudly. Much of the noise remained incomprehensible to the human denizens of the palace, as Barry Ward showed the widow matron her ‘proper respect’.

  Adventurer Kylie, the jumping spider veteran was certainly not alone in her enjoyment of the strange spectacle, even if she was the worst at hiding her mirth. Thyla the tarantula rookie and Thris, leader of the rescue and recovery team were just as rapt; savoring the humiliating, all singing, all dancing comeuppance the widow had so thoroughly earned.

  All three of the mighty and terrible giant arachnids who remained above, lingering in the rafters were really enjoying themselves… discreetly. Watching this squishy, pink, human boy twist the great lady Finli’tichintch up in her own web like a new hatched spiderling thrilled the watchers in some ways they were not especially proud of.

  The bizarre spectacle took only a few minutes to unfold in its full glory and splendor, leaving the eight legged creatures in awe of the small, noisy human.

  His ludicrous musical antics were entertaining enough, a pleasant diversion after a very long week of misadventures and an arduous journey to the human town. The effect his performance seemed to have on the matron made the experience even more delightfully wicked.

  “Oh! He’s waggling his bottom at her now. I wonder if that has a deeper meaning… Or is it just typical primate behavior?” Thyla wondered idly.

  “I doubt he will fling his bodily waste at her... A pity, if you ask me.” Theiss whispered to the tarantula, who nearly fell from her web in horror at the thought.

  “Please, captain… I’m really struggling here.” The big, hairy creature sighed weakly. “The stress of these last few days is giving me knots! I’m even suffering from venom gland dryness!”

  “Oh, sweetie!” Kylie muttered to her colleague, while still watching the show with most of her eyes. “It’s the magical density on this world. This place is in the upper end of D tier, with a wide band of fae magic and related energies that we cannot utilize, taking up space in the arcane bandwidths. Those native energies will often interfere with our own bio-magical processes.”

  “Kylie, not all of us speak nerd.” Thris gently scolded the erudite jumper and nudged the big tarantula with a friendly leg, setting her to swaying in her web. “What she means is, the magic is a little thin and weird here; but we can alleviate the symptoms. I’ll give you an ointment for your fangs and venom glands when we have a moment… I have some eyedrops too.”

  “Shush, he’s winding down… Let’s see what comes next!” Kylie muttered, as Barry finished his cultural display with a rousing drum solo played on his own outthrust buttocks. He gave his left cheek a resounding slap to end his stirring rendition of ‘Fanfare For The Common Man’ re-arranged by and for, an ass.

  “Very good, Barry. Well done.” Count Liam sighed, after the three song set finished on a clever bit of butt percussion… If a young idiot slapping his own bottom in the fanged and venomous face of a gigantic black widow spider could be called clever. The exhausted count sighed and sank down in his chair, looking defeated. “Can you please tell me what this is all about, now?”

  “Oh, sorry… I haven't asked them yet. I was distracted by miss big and bossy, over here getting all up in my conversation.” He turned back to the stunned and horrified spider matron and strummed a few chords.

  “What do you want? Why’d you come to town?” He barked through that awful banjo. “We listened in on much of what you said in your camp…” He grinned at the big spider and chuckled darkly. “My brothers and I tapped your communication web, so we heard everything you said across that system. We also know that you destroyed my little magical ocarina bird. That was not cool, my dad gave me that toy. We also know you ignored repeated warnings that we were not animals, when you told my new friends to prey on us, as if we were beasts.” He smiled pleasantly at the huge creature, fully aware that she would likely assume he was bearing his fangs at her.

  “We have come to redress those errors; that we might establish cordial relations with your settlement.” The terrifying spider sang through her elegant, thirty seven stringed harp of deer bone and goat hide, strung with her own sacred silken cords.

  The fury, humiliation and rage boiling inside her carapace leaked out, revealed in the unconscious dance of her people, exposing her true mental state to the gleeful young man; who smiled wickedly and allowed her to continue entangling herself.

  “We have trespassed on your territory, taken game and encamped without leave. We also menaced and threatened your party without cause or consideration, more than once.” The widow sang very carefully, relieved beyond measure that the creature spoke her language so fluently. Stumbling through this in a foreign language would have brought her even greater mortification.

  “Exactly.” Barry replied sharply. “My auntie Thirp came to me in a dream last night. She said that you violated your own laws and customs pretty egregiously…” His words trailed off, leaving an obvious question dangling between the mismatched pair.

  “That is why we have come to make amends.” The widow strummed firmly at the human, while rearing back into her lesser threat posture, to put this young monkey in his place.

  “And here we go again with the dominance games.” Barry scolded the gigantic arachnid. “I put on that awesome show, because I wanted you to understand that you are not in control here.” He sighed and pulled a small scale guitar from his shadow, just as the banjo vanished away.

  “You missed the sweet, hard rocking point, lady Finli. Now I’m too tired for an encore.”

  “Human child, you taunt me further, at your peril!” She hissed, drawing a sibilant noise from her instrument. “My god has instructed me to make his glory and presence known on this realm. I will accomplish this holy task!”

  Barry grinned at her, unperturbed by the matron’s tantrum. “They are watching right now, you know… My auntie Thirp and Aclintherios, the spinner of fates, I mean. They see through the eyes of the local spiders... The Arachneans here on our world are your sentient cousins, blessed by great Aclintherios and guided by lady Thirp.” Barry paused and stroked his chin in thought for a moment. “Acli’s an old friend of the family too. He and my dad play chess all the time.”

  Poor count Liam sat and watched the incomprehensible, but certainly infuriating antics of his brother’s son; as he drove the big, shiny, black spider to the brink of violence with music and his butt. It was at this moment, this pinnacle of diplomacy, when… with great relief, young count Liam welcomed the appearance of yet another colossal spider into his audience hall.

  “Hermit! Thank the gods above and below! These good emissaries have come to treat with me; but Barry seems to have taken personal offence with one of them!” Count Liam told the big, colorful spider, as he emerged from the ruined section of the castle, onto his mezzanine, above the great hall.

  /

  Mid morning found Gary sprawled out on the lawn, sunbathing with his ass aimed at the sky above, dozing blissfully. His shadow seemed to roil and boil subtly, or perhaps it was simply an illusion of bright sunlight on grass, waving in a gentle breeze.

  “He’s down for a couple hours at least… Let’s go check on Barry while we have the chance.” Amy whispered in her brothers’ ears as they crept away from the passed out master of the house, bare-assed on his lawn by the bath, asleep in the sun.

  “Can we just leave him like that?” Lindsey asked as they left the poolside garden. “He’s so… unpredictable.”

  “My mom and Kree are with him… and my dad’s not a child; he’s just...” Amy sighed and shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  Together the Ward kids, a gangly horsie, a dwarf lad and a goblin girl strolled out into the still shaken and nervous town with wide and eager smiles on their faces.

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  /

  In the land of dreams, beyond the stifling bonds of reality and mortality, the big musician stretched and sighed with relief as he stirred from his fluffy bed of eldritch clouds and drifting, comfy mist.

  “We have been waiting for you, Gary.” Marduk declared, from a plush wing chair beside his bed. “Matters great and small require your attention, my friend; we cannot simply lay here! Up, up, you have things to do!”

  “Duckie, I’ve had a really rough few weeks! Well, several rough years, actually… Cut me some slack, buddy.” He moaned wearily. “I’m off the clock. Whatever you gods want now, it can wait til I feel like doing stuff again.”

  “My friend, this ‘stuff’ may not wait for you to be ready. You took those… divine relics, back into your domain; now things have begun to move in unexpected directions.” Marduk spoke gently and carefully, which was not unusual for him, but got Gary’s attention anyway.

  “What’s up, pal? Are Dana and her crew kicking up a fuss over the marble nut-sack?” He asked with a yawn. “They don’t get a vote, not even a suggestion box.”

  “Your eldritch ball-sack appeared at the site of your… indiscretion, where they cannot look. The problem is War himself. He’s haunting you, just a little.”

  “Haunting me?! War?” Gary demanded, sounding both alarmed and angry. “I mean, that’s pretty on brand for me… but still, that guy sucks!”

  “No one is contesting that… War earned no goodwill in our previous encounters and I am not here to advocate for him. I am, however… deeply concerned as to what effects his lingering shade may have on your long term development. He is drifting in your awful crater, seeking you.” The small, pale god murmured.

  “Well, he can keep seeking until I feel like dealing with him. Not interested.” He grumbled. “I have a Contract issue to remedy and some mortal things to do. War can await my attention.”

  “That seeping wound in reality is also a wound in you, my friend. If anything can be done to close that fissure…” The divine insisted. “Joy, Beast and many others have expressed grave concern for your wellbeing in this time of transition.”

  “If they think I’ll be obedient, compliant or submissive… Let’s say, they should re-evaluate their assumptions.” He grinned in a predatory way and chuckled at his divine buddy. “I’m waking up now, Ducks… Maybe you can scold me again later. It’s nice to see you again, pal.”

  Just as he slipped away into normal sleep, Gary heard a faint, distant, furious and familiar, cry of outrage; the bellowing voice of War, raised in anger. “Gary Ward! You sneaking, treacherous wretch! I will find a way to…”

  /

  Hermit stopped halfway down his dropline, suspended twelve feet above the floor of count Liam’s hall, lost in his worries and a bit slow from digesting too many of the nasty little bat-spiders. He’d been pretty snacky on his way through the ruined parts of the castle and the little critters’ venom was mildly intoxicating… thus, Hermit felt rather pleasantly buzzed and was not as observant or aware as he otherwise might have been. Failing to notice the gigantic black-widow and her three comrades hanging in the rafters was a bit much, even for a stressed out and slightly tipsy arachnid.

  “Gods and spirits…” He muttered, while his spinneret nearly pinched off his line, in pure reactionary, convulsive terror.

  “Arachnean females!? Here?!” He danced on his cord, still dangling head down above the count.

  “Sorry, uncle Hermit… You’ve been molting for a few days; you missed a lot!” Barry sang over his guitar, speaking in the common tongue of the local humans for the count’s sake. The soft thuds of three more huge arachnids landing on the floor of the great hall, sounded behind Barry as he was talking, drawing a fresh scowl across his face.

  The young musician turned back to the spider matron and her crew. The four were all standing on the flagstones, staring up at hermit in absolute, shocked silence and stillness. Barry coughed indelicately and glared daggers at the big widow-spider until she looked his way.

  “Ladies, my uncle Hermit is not a party to these discussions, unless he or the count wish him to join the party. Our issues remain unresolved, as yet.” He barked through his instrument, before translating his words for the count.

  “Barry, perhaps you could be more… diplomatic…?” Liam offered weakly, with his very low expectations evident in his tone.

  “Sorry, uncle your Lordship. Both auntie Thirp and old man Acli asked me to be really obnoxious; on account of her being pretty bigoted and a bit of a religious fanatic… Hold on while I translate that for her! Gotta be professional, I’m on the job!”

  Barry chuckled with glee, when he reached the part where he got to tell the overbearing priestess that her own god thought she was a huge pain in the big, round, spider ass.

  “That sums it up, basically… My team and the count agree to overlook your violations of our law and traditions, while accepting your apologies for any transgressions against your own law and customs. My team and I will not seek any further redress for your shameful and wholly unacceptable behavior.” Barry declared smugly.

  “This concludes your pitiful and embarrassing series of self-owns, so far as we are concerned… Unless you plan on committing any additional follies or faux pas while in our domain.”

  Barry scratched his head in consternation, when his last series of super thinly veiled insults failed to hit the mark. The quartet of ginormous arachnids stood in silence, as still as statues, super creepy and terrifyingly lifelike statues from a lunatic’s deepest and most awful nightmares. “This is a tough crowd, all-a sudden…” He mumbled quietly.

  Equally dumbfounded and stunned, Hermit just dangled on his line, paralyzed by shock and too tipsy on bat-spider venom for rational thought to reassert itself through the haze.

  When admiral Amy and her crew of kids came bumbling into the tableau just a few seconds later, everyone started trying to jabber at once; except Hermit, whose mental energies were entirely dedicated to plotting his immediate escape.

  Hermit’s fond dream of skittering up and over the balustrade, before disappearing into the ruins of the castle was not to be. “Unckie Hermie! I missed you so much!” Mariah sang cheerfully, as she flittered over and alighted above his eyes for a better look at the spider ladies arrayed before him. “Do you know these rude bitches?”

  “Mariah, be nice to our guests!” Barry scolded the tiny butterfly girl gently. “Most of the ladies are civilized and pleasant company… With one notable exception.” He smiled sweetly at the darling creature, sitting atop the still and silent jumping spider and slowly fanning her wings of smoke and flame, while giggling in utter delight.

  “Hold on while I translate that, for this obnoxious widow. Of course, now I have to translate that part too, including all my repeated slanders, slights and insults. I’m a professional interpreter!”

  “Barry, you aren’t just using this as an excuse to abuse this being… Are you?” The count asked very carefully.

  “Sorry, uncle Liam… I totally am. Hold on while I reveal that fact to this awful and pretentious jerk, who I already have a personal beef with. Translation duty for the win!”

  It took a few terribly long seconds for Barry to relay his latest insults and jibes to the increasingly furious and flustered widow matron, who had to sit there and take it from a tiny, squishy primate. Worse yet, the long rumored and infuriatingly elusive Hermit dangled right there, above the human lord in his pitiful, rustic hall.

  Hermit, the inscrutable cryptid mystery… Whose very existence most Arachneans doubted; despite so much evidence, so many sightings and reports from reliable sources. The very idea of a lone, sentient male Arachnean wandering the endless ether for centuries was too fanciful and romantic for a rational, sane spider to even consider. But then, also improbable was the tiny fae being seated atop that impossible spider’s head, where they both dangled together a few yards above the floor.

  “Ooo! This is good good entertainments!” Daisybelle announced from her seat atop Gandree’s absurdly wide shoulders. “Get closer, dwarfy boy… I don’t wanna miss anything juicy!” Amy smiled smugly to herself, as the great lady’s concerns and disbelief shattered, broken between the hammer and anvil of unlikely encounters and odd pairings.

  “Does it truly exist? Impossible…? Is this some filthy monkey’s cruel trick?” The widow danced in her native dialect, before strumming another, more intellectual query at the group of unlikely entities. “Are you… the Hermit?” She asked the dangling spider, her tone weak and faltering. “I feel so odd, actually speaking to a male Arachnean…”

  “My poor uncle Hermit has been having a hard time lately…” Barry strummed firmly, taking control of the event once more, with some backup from his brothers and sister.

  Liam, Daisybelle and Lindsey, being unable to speak or comprehend the dialects in play, were relegated to watching an inscrutable pantomime. A bit of narration and interpretation from Gandree helped, though he struggled to keep up with the fast flowing nonsense pouring out into the room.

  “Brother Hermit seems… indisposed, so Barry is leading the… We’ll call it a meeting, for now.” The dwarf muttered to the two humans and his goblin lass. “I guess Arachnean that males are non sentient animals, which makes Hermit an oddity that they wish to examine. Barry is breaking them off a piece of his mind at the moment… Oh my, I can’t translate that…!”

  With a little gentle coaxing from Mariah, poor Hermit finally accepted the absurd reality he was facing and descended to the floor to join the mad party that his little brother was throwing.

  Hermit crept close and strummed very softly, modulating his tone and pitch to be audible only to Barry. “I can’t deal with these ladies right now…” He muttered to the young lad. “Please, make my excuses, or just tell them to fuck off, either way.”

  Barry went on at length, explaining in no uncertain terms that Hermit wasn’t going anywhere or answering any questions and that he didn’t wish to negotiate on that at all. “Hermit’s personal rights and liberties will not be infringed… not even a little. My family stands firm on this; all of us, including my auntie Thirp, her divine holiness, the Spinner in Darkness.”

  He finished name dropping and wielding divine authority that wasn’t his, then hammered those points home by referencing certain indiscretions and indelicacies that were still pending, between the spider homeworld and the county of Foresthome.

  Lady Finli’tichintch tried valiantly to slip in a word here and there, struggling to spin a sheltering rhetorical web of logic and reason, under the fusillade of insults, denials and rejections flying her way from the cheerfully insubordinate primate boy and his troop of trained jabbering monkeys. He intercepted and severed every possible line of argument or defence she proposed, almost as if he could read her inner thoughts in some occult manner.

  Even as she contemplated the silly idea, his tone shifted, becoming more irritating and sweetly insulting.

  “I can read your thoughts! Oh great lady of the cult of Aclintherios, you can hide nothing from me; even if I am just an insubordinate primate. We lesser beings and filthy monkeys are known for playing tricks, after all.”

  His smiling statement sent a chill running under every square inch of her carapace and curdled her venom glands. “Go home, lady Finli’tichintch. There is nothing for you here. If my uncle Hermit chooses to meet with you, that is his decision.” He turned his gaze to address the three spiders behind the widow and smiled. “Ladies, good journey and be welcome on your return.”

  “My subordinates are welcome to return, while I am not?!” The great lady grumbled at the boy.

  “Both Kylie and Thyla have proven themselves to be reasonable and civil beings with a firm grasp of interspecies ethics. You struggle in that area, Finli my dear.” Barry strummed confidently at the big arachnid. “Remember, I can see what you are trying to hide… all your inner thoughts. The disdain you hold for me, the count and all my mammalian kin is impossible to conceal. In light of your prior actions, we find you to be untrustworthy.”

  The high and mighty noble lady and cleric made her complaints known at length, only to face a stern and silent denial from the boy and his master, the count of the land.

  “I gotta admit, I enjoyed messing with her…” Barry sighed as the spider troop marched back out into the traumatized town, escorted by Malus. “It was petty and small of me, but damn satisfying as well.” He sighed to Hermit and the rest. “Early dinner?”

  /